Glitch in the System
by DOMinMatrix
Summary: What was supposed to be a weekend of fun and general nonsense with his visiting friend Mark, soon turns into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse that may have fatal consequences for the YouTuber known as Jacksepticeye. (Jacksepticeye, Markiplier, Antisepticeye & more)
1. Chapter 1

"Coooommmee Baaacckkk..."

"Nope. That's a nope zone, right there. I'm gettin' the fook out of here." Every word was breathy like he'd been running a marathon, despite having been sitting in his computer chair for the last several hours.

There was a flurry of movements as the man navigated quickly through what looked like a maze of hanged corpses, a long string of curses under his breath as he did - eyes seemingly glued open as the fear of a single blink could make him miss a step.

All he had to do was avoid the -

"FOUND YOU!" A shrill scream exploded in his headphones as a ghostly image of a mangled young woman sprang forth on the computer screen, making a mess of brown hair and limbs flail helplessly.

"HOLY SHIT!" The man screeched, covering his face like he could hide from the image - as if that single act would protect him from anything. Which, it wouldn't... but that was beside the point. It was the illusion of safety that was important. The same safety a young child might feel when hiding under their covers from the monsters lurking in their closets.

After a moment, the hands slowly retracted from his face. Blue eyes shifting between the flashing announcement of his death in-game and the bright light of his camera in disbelief. He was uncharacteristically at a loss for words in light of the lost progress on a game he'd been otherwise nailing.

Not that he was all that upset. Just completely taken off guard. It had been one hell of a build-up. A crescendo of fear that had left his heart pounding and his lungs gasping for a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He'd been so immersed in the action and thrill of the game that he had to take a moment to remind himself of where he was.

Which was in his recording room.

On camera.

Right.

He smiled with a chuckle at himself as he addressed the camera straight on, "Well, I'm going to leave this episode here. This game is fucking awesome. It's definitely one of the scariest I've played in a long time and I'm super excited to keep playing!"

Seán McLoughlin, otherwise known by his fans online as Jacksepticeye - or "Jack" for short, sat in excited attention in his computer chair now that he was back in his element. Despite the chilling thrill of the horror game he'd just subjected himself to, he was in high spirits. There was nothing quite like a well-made horror game to get the blood pumping. It was no wonder the game had received such high praise online.

"Seriously, guys, don't take my word for it. Go download the game. Play it for yourselves. This game thoroughly creeped me out."

Thunder rumbled loudly outside his otherwise soundproofed room, making the Irish man chuckle nervously, "I'm definitely more creeped out with the weather being so angry! Makes me feel like I'm actually in the game. I don't know if you guys can hear it, but it's really loud."

As if on cue, a loud crack and tumbling rumble made Seán jump, looking from his camera to the nearby window with wide anxious eyes.

It had been storming like crazy the last couple of days, but this seemed to be the worst of it - they were even calling for some flooding. It was supposed to last most of the night, from what he'd heard. That said, the weather channel had promised clear skies this weekend. But they'd need to get through this monster of a storm first.

"A-anyways," He continued, as if unsure but quickly regaining himself, "thank you guys, so much for watching this episode. If you liked it, PUNCH THE LIKE BUTTON IN THE FACE!" He threw his fist towards the camera, all smiles returned.

"LIKE A-" His hands thrust into the air as he continued his outro, putting all of his energy into ending his video like usual. Just as they came down and he was going to finish his sentence - everything went dark.

"Boss?" His words trailed off as he was left in the complete and utter darkness of his room. The only light coming through the window from a flash of lightning that hit way too close to home, shaking the building and making the man jump and curse loudly as he nearly fell out of his chair.

Seriously?! A power outage?! Monster of a storm was right! He wasn't even close to where it was supposed to be the worst, and he still lost power!

"Damnit! Are ya fucking kidding me?" Seán slipped under his desk, pressing the power button on his computer, only to curse louder as it remained silent. "Noooo... no. no. no. You can't be fucking serious right now." a growl rumbled in his chest as any other attempts at turning his system on proved fruitless.

A moment later, the flights began to flicker back to life, much brighter than normal and a surge of power came through, zapping Seán and making him pull his hands away from the desktop case, waving them frantically to get the tingling in his fingers to stop.

Fuck... power surges were never a good sign.

"I swear to god... if I just fried my power source, I'm going to lose it."

Timid fingers tapped the case experimentally, finding it safe to touch again before he pulled the box out completely to inspect. The wall socket seemed fine - no obvious signs of scorching or frying.

It was a positive start, at least.

Next was the chords and power source. Again, nothing seemed like it was out of place or damaged. Granted, he knew the true test was going to be trying to turn it back on again.

With a heavy sigh, he steadied himself, hoping against hope for the best but expecting reality to take a major shit on his evening, "Here goes nothin'." he mumbled.

With bated breath, Seán pressed the power button.

And an immediate wave of relief washed over him as his computer whirred to life, "YES!" There was more than a little of him silently thanking whatever higher being that was looking out for him tonight.

He climbed back up into his chair, quickly logging back in and waiting for his system to load. "Come on... come on..." he mumbled, anxiety making it's home in his voice, waiting for the system code to pop up on his screen - the one that said his computer hadn't shut down correctly and give him the option of saving recovered files.

Unfortunately, no matter how long he sat there staring at his screen - nothing ever popped up.

Okay... so maybe he didn't have a higher being looking out for him after all. Because this was just too cruel.

His head dropped, hanging so low his chin nearly hit his chest in his defeat.

It was all gone.

An entire two hours worth of content... he'd lost it all. Because of the game's autosave feature, his game had saved all the progress he'd made when he'd died, but his recording was gone. The complete shut-down of his computer also meant that the temporary files were probably wiped clean too.

Did he even dare check?

Sure, why not. He was a glutton for pain, after all. He just loved getting his hopes up.

And, as expected, opening the temporary files folder proved useless.

Empty.

Sean let out a long agonized groan as his head lolled back to hit the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling and asking said higher beings why they were such dicks - and immediately imagining them grinning smugly down on him with the big-ol-middle-finger-fuck-you at the ready.

This was every YouTuber's worst nightmare. Well - maybe not the worst, but it was certainly up there.

"Damnit... now what?"

It was too late to go back and redo the progress he'd made in the game. A quick glance down at his computer's clock told him it was too late to get into much of anything, actually. It was going on one in the morning, and he had a very important errand to run later that next day.

But he also couldn't just... not post anything. It was hard enough keeping his content relevant in YouTube's pain-in-the-ass algorithm. And, of course, his lazy ass had decided to procrastinate and leave everything for the last minute. This game-play was supposed to make up two days worth of posting so he had time to relax a bit this weekend.

So much for that.

There was a phrase for this, wasn't there? Murphy's Law?

It certainly felt like everything was going wrong. Though, most of this was on him. The power outage was just punishment for not being proactive.

But dwelling on his poor life choices and even worse luck this evening wasn't going to fix it.

Fine. He'd have to improvise something.

Even something small, something that wouldn't require a whole lot of editing would be enough.

With a quick few clicks and all of his equipment turned back on, he was back online and ready to record.

A deep breath was all he needed before he put on his signature Jacksepticeye smile back on his face and hit the record button, "Top o' the mornin' to ya laddies!"


	2. Chapter 2

Seán didn't like bees on the best of days.

It's not like he had anything against the little buggers - but the pointy butts of death didn't exactly put them on his "favorites" list. He felt like it was a pretty relatable sentiment.

He certainly didn't like them any more now as they swarmed around his head with an incessant buzzing in his ears. All of them in tune with each other to increase the volume at which they vibrated.

It was enough to drive someone mad!

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

Why in gods name was he just sitting here letting them surround him? It just didn't make any god-damned sense! He just continued to sit there and let them buzz in his ears!

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

"Fuckin' BEES!" Seán yelled, startling himself awake with his own voice, sitting up on his elbows to look around dazed as he slowly became aware of his surroundings.

Which was, thankfully, not surrounded by bees.

He was in his room, only half-laying on his bed after having just barely stripped himself of his pants and collapsed there only - he turned, looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table - four hours ago.

It was just after seven now - way too damn early. After the night he'd had, working out his video and the small amount of editing he could do in his sleep-deprived state, Seán was content with just letting the day slip past him. He fell back on to his mattress, heavy eyes sliding closed and embracing the sweet darkness of continued sleep.

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

 _BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ..._

One eye peeked open - with way too much effort, glancing over at his bedside table where his phone danced across the surface as it buzzed.

Ah. Well, that explained the weird dream.

Who the hell was messaging him this early in the morning? Didn't people realize he was trying to sleep?

 _Rude._

He glared at it, some silent threat in his single open eye for the device to remain quiet, which at first, it seemed to comply. But it wasn't long before the damned thing started buzzing again.

Obviously, someone was dying. There was no other excuse for anyone to try this hard to get a hold of him.

He sighed, reaching over to grab the phone, sleepily examining the string of notifications he had. Starting with a missed phone call at 5:50 am.

All notifications from the same person.

Mark Fischbach.

 _Mark?_ What was he doing calling so early in the fucking morning?

Something tugged at the back of Seán's memory - something telling him that were was something important he was supposed to be doing, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

It would come to him. Eventually. Maybe.

In the meantime, while he was waiting for his brain to catch up; he swiped through the messages, feeling the sleepiness slowly fade from him as his brow rose questioningly at the strange texts.

5:50 am - 1 missed call - Mark

(6:00 am) Mark: Hey! I just landed in Munich. The layover is a little longer than I thought. Storms last night caused a delay or something.

(6:07 am) Mark: Well fine. Don't text or call me back :P

(6:10 am) Mark: I'm just going to keep texting you - you know, because I'm such a good friend.

(6:11 am) Mark: Dude, I'm starving. The food on the plane SUCKED. I think I'll try and grab a snack before the transfer.

(6:20 am) Mark: COOOOFFFFEEEEEEE...

(6:22 am) Mark: I'm having an affair with this coffee cup. Don't tell Amy.

(6:25 am) Mark: I think I'm going to leave her for this coffee. I've found the true love of my life!

(6:31 am) Mark: The guilt is killing me. I can't live with what I've done. I'm going to come clean to Amy. We can still work it out. But the coffee has to go. I'll have to find a way of... disposing of it.

(6:38 am) Mark: I've done it. There is coffee blood on my hands - I'll have to leave here. Change my name. CHANGE MY FACE!

(6:45 am) Mark: I think I've found safe passage into another country.

(6:49 am) Mark: HOW HAS MY LIFE SPIRALED SO QUICKLY OUT OF CONTROL!?

(6:52 am) Mark: In all seriousness, though - the transfer is about to board.

(6:53 am) Mark: I really hope you're just ignoring me...

(6:54 am) Mark: ... and not sleeping.

(6:58 am) Mark: Plane's boarding.

(7:00 am) Mark: I'm getting in line to board! Last chance to prove you're still alive!

(7:03 am) Mark: Okay last, last chance. I'm in my seat.

(7:09 am) Mark: I'm turning off my phone. We'll be taking off in the next 10 min.

(7:10 am) Mark: Seán, you better not leave me stranded at the airport. XD

As he read through all of the texts, it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks - the important thing he was supposed to be doing.

 _FUCK! AIRPORT!_

Seán jumped from his bed so fast he nearly fell over. Yanking up the same discarded pants from the night before from the floor and jumping into them and pulling them on. Then snatching his phone from the bed and running downstairs to grab his keys and hoodie.

Mark's last message had been just a few minutes ago. Which meant he was _REALLY_ late in getting on the road.

The Irish man cursed repeatedly in his head as all the planning for this weekend came flooding back to him as he climbed into his car and peeled out to the main road.

Mark Fischbach, or Markiplier, one of his closest friends, was flying into town for an impromptu vacation before he was supposed to go on tour in the UK.

And Seán had promised to pick him up from Stansted Airport - which was a little over an hour and a half away from his home in Brighton.

Ironically, his only saving grace had been the storm, extending the layover Mark had in Munich, Germany. It bought him some time - not a lot, but enough. But he was going to be cutting it close. Mark's flight was going to take about an hour and forty-five minutes, plus the time to take off and land.

"With any luck, I won't hit a whole lot of traffic..." He mumbled managing to hit a major highway without many stops, knowing damn well that any mention of his hopes for luck was a clear invitation for karma to come kick him in the face.

 _Murphys Law at work again..._

He shook that thought from his head just as quickly as it came. This wasn't some higher being out to get him. This was a series of inconveniences. Mostly caused by his own lack of organization - thinking anything otherwise only made him paranoid.

The trip went about as smoothly as it could, considering the break-neck speeds Seán went to make it in time. He kept checking his phone for the time, then double checking the clock on his dashboard for safe measure. Then checking his phone again for the dreaded _'We've landed, where the hell are you?'_ text.

So, when he managed to get to the airport and park his car in record time and a message still hadn't popped up, he was feeling pretty good about himself.

He'd still be able to hang out somewhere looking cool and nonchalant and decidedly _not_ as if he'd just broken several traffic laws to get here.

Now, he just had to figure out where to meet the big doof.

Seán found arrivals and quickly made his way to a display board with the arrival information for all planes.

"Let's see... I think the plane was," he ran his finger down the electronic board and stopped with a grin at one that looked familiar, "Right. BX234 from Munich," He read, scanning over to see that the plane had just landed.

"Holy shit. Couldn't have planned that better if I tried..." he breathed. Just a little later and he'd probably never live it down.

The Irish man shoved his hands in his jeans pockets as he checked the directory for the baggage terminal and quickly made his way to stand (nonchalantly) against a wall that would allow him to not only see when the passengers started filtering through customs, but also watch everyone else milling about.

It wasn't like it was prime travel season - it was late October, just the slightest hint of a chill in the air and no major holidays in the near future, but it still felt like there were a lot of people here. Lots of families either coming or going. It was interesting watching them all.

A few of them even watched him back. Some of the younger generation doing double-takes wondering if they recognized him.

Thankfully, even if they did, no one made any major fuss about him being there. He had noticed a couple of girls across the way taking pictures excitedly, but that was about it.

Which was a nice change of pace. In all the rushing to get out of the house, he'd forgotten to bring a hat or something - and even though the weather was starting to cool down, wearing his hood wasn't really a great idea. It wasn't like he was super famous or anything, but he did get stopped quite frequently by fans when they did recognize him.

Today, though, most people seemed to write him off.

Which made it easier for him to just observe those around him.

He'd gotten so caught up in people-watching that he failed to notice when a figure come up to him until they shoved something on his head and pulled it over his eyes.

"HEY! What the fook-!"

Seán cursed, back-tracking quickly, pushing the obstacle from his vision to see the wide smile of his long-time friend Mark as he chuckled at his own personal joke. The obstacle in question being a bright green ball-cap sized just small enough that pulling it off his head made Seán's hair even more unruly than usual.

"You fookin' dick," Seán chuckled, unable to suppress the smile that pulled at his lips.

It had been a while since Seán had seen the guy in person. The videos Mark posted on YouTube just didn't do the guy justice. He was a bit taller than most people thought and well built - all that time at the gym was _definitely_ paying off. The muscle defining black short-sleeved shirt certainly helped. Mark's hair was just a curly mess. He'd left it to grow out a bit with the scruff that outlined his jaw. The whole ensemble made him look... macho. At least when Seán compared him to his own mental picture of himself.

Seán was also immediately reminded of how contagious Mark's mood was; making the Irish man forget about all the nonsense of the last twelve hours with a single smile. It was the epitome of _PMA_.

"Glad to see you got here in one piece," Mark remarked, goofy smile dipping to a knowing grin - a hint of sarcasm in his tone and deep brown eyes.

The comment made Seán snort, "Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" He asked, opening his arms to wrap his friend in a tight hug before they separated.

"No, cause, I didn't have to speed to get here. All my traveling was done for me." There was a pointedness to the comment that made Seán squirm. He'd wanted to play it off cooly. Apparently, Mark wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"What?" Seán scoffed, doing everything in his power to sound convincing, to sound like he wasn't lying through his teeth, "I-I didn't speed."

The way Mark hummed with that same knowing grin on his face told Seán the man didn't believe him at all, "Suuurrre."

Welp... There went being nonchalant.

"Whatever. I'm here aren't I?" The Irish man dropped the act completely, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. There was no sense in arguing with the guy. He'd obviously figured him out. Not that it required a detective. Seán hadn't done himself any favors by not texting the guy back this morning.

There was a rolling laugh from his friend as he shook his head, "I'm giving you a hard time, man. You know I appreciate you coming all this way to pick me up."

"Sure doesn't feel like it," he mock-pouted. You know, because he was six years old.

But the teasing look he gave Mark was soon replaced with another grin as he leaned down to snatch up one of his friend's bags, "Come on, let's get out of here."

It was time to get their weekend started.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting back to the house had been easier than getting to the airport. And far less boring - or... stress inducing. Most of the trip had been spent catching up on the time they'd missed, the things they'd done, the newest additions to their gaming rigs, the newest games they were excited to play.

Having company in the car made it a lot easier to pass the time. Especially company like Mark. There weren't many quiet moments with a guy like him. Which was nice. No awkward silences to fill the air. No need to worry about weird small-talk or trying to entertain someone you didn't really know. It meant they were close enough that they could talk about just about anything.

It was a little after eleven in the morning when they'd finally pulled into Seán's place. And, as promised, though Seán had gotten few chances to notice on the drive to the airport and back, the weather was looking quite pleasant. The sun was out and the sky above was a bright blue, making the dying trees in the neighborhood look warm and filled with fall color.

Ironic, given that neither of the guys was looking to spend a whole lot of time outside today.

"Man, I'm starved," Mark climbed out of the car with an exaggerated stretch, only to flinch when he got a sudden whiff of himself, "... And smelly... How is it traveling always makes me feel like I haven't showered in days?"

Seán chuckled, going around the back of the car to pull Mark's suitcase and bags from the trunk, "I feel the same way when I travel. But," He grunted as the heavier of the suitcases fell hard to the ground. What the hell was he carrying in these things? Bricks? "Luckily for you, I do have a functioning shower." he finished, coming around and passing one of the lighter bags to Mark.

Speaking of showers, Seán was feeling in need of one now too. He'd forgone a shower this morning in light of having overslept, and getting freshened up would help wash away the remaining grogginess of having only slept for four hours. Or at the very least, it would look like it had.

He led Mark to the front door, "Tell ya what, you go get cleaned up and I'll order us some food. Then, we'll switch."

"You sure? I can wait until you're out - It's your place, after all."

Seán quickly unlocked the door, motioning for Mark to step in first, "Nah, man. Guests first. Those be the rules."

He heard, rather than saw a relenting sigh escape his friend as Mark made his way up the first flight of stairs to enter the living room-dining room area, followed by Seán as he dragged the heavier luggage up the stairs with more effort than he would have liked to admit.

"I can carry my own suitcase, ya goof." The raven-haired man gave him a pointed look before taking the handle of his luggage, pulling it up the rest of the way, then making his way around the corner and up the second set of stairs to the third floor of Seán's townhouse.

It wasn't like Mark had never been there before. He'd visited once before for a much shorter time. But at least Seán didn't have to do the whole awkward house tour again.

"Maybe don't pack your entire life in a single bag?" Seán grumbled out loud, knowing full well Mark could still hear him, earning him a chuckle from his friend.

"I didn't pack my _entire_ life. I left the kitchen sink at home."

It was maybe another two or three minutes before Seán heard the shower start running.

Right, then. On to procuring food.

By the time Mark was out of the shower and made his way back down to the kitchen, the pizza had already been delivered.

"Took you long enough," The Irish man quipped with a grin through the slice of pizza partially stuffed in his mouth.

Mark merely rolled his eyes, "Yeah yeah, go get cleaned up, will ya?"

Seán hopped up from his seat, having finished his slice, patting his hands together and wiping crumbs off his shirt as he made his way to the stairs. "Grab the pizza and go get yourself set up in the recording room. We can hang out a bit before we record later!" He started to climb the stairs two at a time before he heard Mark call after him.

"Slave driver!"

Seán got in and out of the shower in what he felt was record time. Especially given how good the warm water felt as it cascaded over him. It had been less of a wake-up call than he'd thought it would be and standing there in the steamy heat only made his eyes heavier than before he got in. He could have easily stood there just letting the water hit his face for another thirty minutes.

But he couldn't.

He had a guest to entertain.

Seán had thought best to grab his clothes before hopping in the shower, which saved him the awkward naked walk to his room past the occupied recording office for clothing.

He slipped into a clean pair of jeans and a laid-back tee-shirt, brushing through his towel-dried hair, but leaving it wet, for the most part. He wasn't looking to impress anyone. Yet. He'd probably do something with it before they started recording anything.

But for now, he was content with feeling clean.

"Feel better?"

Mark looked up from the extra computer chair in the recording office the moment Sean walked in. He was still holding his phone - either he was on social media (which Sean didn't doubt), or he'd been messaging Amy to let her know he'd gotten here alright.

Despite himself, Seán chuckled with a small shake of his head, "Yeah, I guess. I'm still pretty tired. Been a long week. And last night was no better for my sleep schedule," he grumbled, plopping down into his desk chair, slumping down in it before eyeing the black computer screen.

After his second attempt at recording a video and managing to post it, he'd thought it best to shut everything down. He hadn't checked on it since then. He almost didn't want to press his luck. Too many things had already happened.

He sighed as a familiar unrealistic paranoia flooded his mind.

A paranoia he was determined to ignore. With a grunt, he sat back up and leaned down to press the power button to his computer then reached up to power on his screens as well.

"So you guys got hit pretty bad last night, huh?"

"Hmm?" Sean hummed as he waited for his computer to boot, watching the spinning loading logo of his operating system.

"The storm that hit last night?" Mark awkwardly scoot-wheeled over to his desk, giving Sean a quick glance down at the app launched on Mark's phone. Twitter. _Typical._

"Oh! Yeah, I guess. I actually lost power for a little while. Hence the care in turning everything back on." The Irish man motioned to his computer. Now that he thought back, though, the storm had been enough to delay Mark's layover this morning. So it must have been pretty bad by Brighton's standards. It was always pretty rainy here.

"I saw the damage as we were driving. There was some flooding. Didn't you see it?"

Huh... He guessed he hadn't. Sleep deprivation had a way of narrowing one's focus and attention, though. So he wasn't all that surprised he'd missed it. Not to mention he'd been kind of distracted by a pretty talkative passenger, "I was too busy trying to drive, I guess." He shrugged, then looking back to his screen as the option to log in finally popped up.

Seán quickly typed in his password and waited for the full boot - pleasantly surprised to find no immediate errors popping up. The system panel looked like it wasn't detecting any abnormal usage in the system either.

There was a stretch of silence as Seán continued to check his computer and get everything up and running, grabbing a piece of unfinished crust to nibble on while Mark quietly swiped through his social feed.

Until that is, Mark suddenly looked up like he'd just remembered something.

"Oh hey, that was a sick video you posted last night, by the way."

Seán's brow shot up before he scoffed around the crust dangling from his mouth, "Really?" Last night had actually been this morning, but even sleep deprived, Seán knew the video he'd posted was... subpar. If he could even call it that.

Mark nodded excitedly, eyes gleaming in the same way Seán had seen when they would go to PAX or one of the other major gaming events. The one that said he was super pumped for a new adventure or story to explore, "Yeah man. One of your best. I'm serious. Your subscribers are going nuts! Though, now I'm putting together why you woke up so late this morning." Mark snickered.

Bright blue eyes narrowed skeptically on the man. Seán knew the fan base loved his antics (most of the time, at least), but who knew this is all it would take to keep them entertained. "So much for the quality content argument. I wasn't even trying." He shook his head despondently, twisting the crust in his mouth, biting down to tear off a piece as he leaned back in his computer chair, sulking.

To say he was still sore about losing all his data during the storm was an understatement. He still wasn't 100% sure there wasn't any lasting damage to his computer from the surge. But his system seemed to be running smoothly...for now. He'd have to keep a close eye on it while recording with Mark over the next few days.

His friend, who'd gone back to examining his social feed, looked up from his phone to give him a disapproving look, "Don't be so hard on yourself all the time. I'm telling you, you've really upped the... _ante_." He chuckled with an exaggerated wink and finger drum that not only confused Seán but made him cringe at what Mark thought was a decent joke - even if he didn't really understand why.

"What the hell are ya talking about?" Obviously Mark just being an ass. Because there was no way they were they really talking about the same video. It had been so stupid. A video he hadn't even wanted to post because of how disappointed he was with it - but schedules had to be kept. The YouTube algorithm god required it's sacrifice.

Mark's deep brown gaze slipped from amused to scowling, "Have you been listening at all? Come on, Seán, I know you're tired, but you can't be that dense! Your latest Anti skit!"

 _What?_

"Anti?" Purposely ignoring the comment about being dense, Seán's brows pulled together, turning his computer chair so that he was facing Mark full-on, "it's been months since the last Anti video. Are you sure you weren't watching a fan video?"

The room went quiet as Mark watched him for a while. Gauging his seriousness before his gaze shifted and he was staring him down like he'd lost his damn mind, "Seán," his voice turned snarky, as he pulled his hands up to steeple in front of his lips with a pointed look in his eyes, "did you bump your head last night?"

Two could play that game, asshole. "Did you? Maybe you dreamt it up while you were snoring on your flight?" Seán asked just as patronizing without missing a beat.

Deep brown eyes narrowed on him further before Mark leaned over him, practically climbing on top of him to clatter away loudly at his keyboard.

"Woah man, ever heard of personal space?"

"Ever heard of not being a scrublord?"

 _Real Mature_ , he thought with a roll of his blue eyes.

Seán sighed, leaning as far back as he could as he relented, giving Mark full access to his computer, "Mark, I think I'd remember posting a fuckin Anti..." his voice trailed off as Mark finally leaned back, revealing the YouTube search he'd pulled up.

It was Seán's channel - there was no doubt about it. The little 'verified' check next to his channels' logo proved it.

"...video." Seán finished as something strange caught his attention. The video listed as the most recent upload was completely foreign to him. He'd definitely posted one, but it wasn't anything like this. The video's thumbnail was the one he'd picked but it was also different. Like someone had come through and vandalized the image of his face.

Stranger yet was the title.

If memory served, he'd called it something dumb - something clickbait and stupid. Though memory seemed fit to escape him as he tried to recall what he'd actually typed.

Either way, though; this definitely wasn't it.

" _404 - Can't Be Found?_ " He read aloud, taking control of the mouse from an arrogant looking Mark.

What the actual fuck was this?

Against better judgment, he clicked on the video.

It started off the way all of his videos usually did. "Top of the mornin' to ya laddies!" His voice announced as the viewers were greeted by his upbeat intro and signature high five. This was definitely the footage he'd recorded early that morning. The clothes were exactly the same as those he'd been wearing before his shower.

"My name is jack-ckjack-sssepticjacksepticeyeyeyeeee... seeepticeyyyye" as the intro continued, the screen began glitching heavily, like the picture of an old analog TV. His voice slipping over itself like a broken record then slowing down, distorting and deepening his tone beyond recognition.

Something wasn't right here... as the seconds ticked by, Sean felt his gut twisting, telling him that something was off. That flood of paranoia quickly coming back.

Then... everything in the video went dark.

It wasn't the end of the video by any means. They were only a minute into a video that was listed as ten minutes long. Maybe his computer was more screwed than he thought. Maybe he'd just uploaded a completely corrupt file. Another thirty seconds and he was starting to wonder if they should just turn it off.

That's when he heard the shrill sinister chuckle echo in the background.

And his blood ran cold.

It was a chuckle he knew all too well.

Because he'd been the one to create it.

It was the signature laugh he'd given the fan-created character known as Antisepticeye. His supposed alter-ego, evil side, or a demon... whichever was the most popular headcanon at any given time.

The same Anti he had not edited into his video the night before.

Suddenly his own face, perverse and demented looking, glitched into view on the screen. This was the image he'd given the character - messy, chaotic and deranged. Hair tousled and unkempt and dyed a deep green. A bleeding wound running from one side of his neck to the other. This was him - his version of Anti.

But it wasn't. For the first time when seeing this creature on screen, he felt like he was looking at someone completely different.

A large devilish grin slowly spread over his copy's lips as he waved a sharp kitchen knife at the camera, allowing for the light of the recording equipment to shine off of its blade.

"Surprise~..." Seán's likeness taunted in his garbled staticky voice, tilting his head slightly as his features blurred and glitched in and out of the frame and his eyes appeared green in one shot and black as night in another.

"Looks like someone forgot to update their anti -virus."


	4. Chapter 4

_**"Looks like someone forgot to update their anti-virus."**_

Mark chuckled softly at Seán's side, entertained by the pun, but the Irish man found no humor in it at all as he watched on. His heart hammered loudly in his ears. Surely even his friend could hear it at this point. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen long enough to find out, though.

"I promised I would be back when you least suspected it, didn't I?" He sneered, seeming to glare right through the screen and right at Seán himself, making him shiver. "And I _always_ keep my promises." The man in the video said, putting a particular emphasis on his words. He was referring to Seán's own hint to the character's return in a video he'd posted some time ago, but it also felt like he was hinting at more...

A devilish grin renewed on the man's lips, glitching now and then to show pointed teeth before returning to normal. The same effects Seán and Robin would often put into their own edits of Anti - giving him a constantly changing look so that all versions of the fandom's creation could be realized.

But it never felt as terrifying to him as it did now.

" _Some_ of you may be wondering what I could _possibly_ have up my sleeve." He paused, for the dramatic effect, surely. Allowing the audience to imagine any number of possibilities before continuing, "I assure you, it's nothing quite like anything you've ever seen before."

The air in Seán's chest constricted until he was breathing in short, fearful pants. As if someone had literally stolen the air from his lungs. He was hyperventilating - falling into a spiral of panic he couldn't get a grip on.

"That said, stop me if you've heard this one," A darkly twisted smile took over the man's face completely, making him look crazed to the very core, "I want to play a game." He tilted his head unnaturally before it glitched around with a demented giggle.

"Those of you who are paying close enough attention may just -"

Seán quickly clicked the video, pausing the man mid-sentence, unable to take listening to any more of his rant. He was sick to his stomach. And even paused, the image of his look-alike filled him with a dread he couldn't even begin to describe.

"What the heck? Why did you stop it?" Mark turned expectant eyes and grin on Seán before he faltered.

The look on Seán's face was... strange; skin paling impossibly white, eyes wide as he stared at the frozen image of himself on the screen.

"Seán?" Mark put a soft hand on the man's shoulder, only to watch in confusion as the Irish man nearly jumped out of his own skin as he turned those wide eyes on him now. And... was he... trembling? "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Seán's heavy breathing did not calm at all as his blue eyes danced back and forth searching Mark's face, before turning back to the screen. Like it might jump out at him at any moment.

"Mark... I... I didn't post this." He managed to say. His mind was reeling with all the possibilities and implications of this video. But nothing quite made sense in his mind. No matter how he looked at it, this video was impossible.

There was a long silence before the half Korean snorted, "Alright, very funny - Try hard. You almost got me there for a minute. Tryin' to be all _spoopy_ for Halloween." Mark rolled his eyes with an amused chuckle, hands waving around sarcastically.

"This isn't a fuckin' joke Mark!" Seán snapped and Mark flinched at his friend's unusual and sudden outburst.

There was nothing funny about ANY of this.

He was legitimately freaked out. There was even a part of him that was starting to get pissed. Someone was obviously trying to mess with him. But for the life of him, he still couldn't figure out _how_ let alone the _who_. He almost didn't want to know who was capable of putting something like this together.

"A-are you serious right now?" His friend sounded skeptical at first - still sure that this was all some elaborate joke, but his tone turned concerned as the fear began to overwhelm Seán's face.

"I didn't post this." The Irish man, repeated. Turning back to Mark again, staring him straight in the eye and pronouncing each syllable deliberately as he tried to convey his point and fear through his words.

Mark blinked a couple of times, his expression shifting, making Seán think he was finally catching on, "Alright... well... if you didn't post it, who did?" he asked, his tone suddenly sounding serious.

Seán was silent as his mind ran in circles. All he could do was shake his head in response.

"Maybe it was Robin?"

That made Seán shake his head more vigorously at the thought, "No. Robin wouldn't have done something like this. Even as a joke. And even if he had, I don't even know how someone could have made this. I didn't record any of this dialogue."

"What do you mean?"

"All of my Anti skits are spliced together. The editing is what makes the character so creepy. None of this is my footage. Edited or otherwise."

It wasn't like he could remember everything little thing he'd ever said during his videos - but there were no obvious cuts, no breaks in the script that would indicate that someone had spliced his audio together. Even when he posted Anti videos, they always came out a little choppy. But that was part of the process - part of the character.

And this... this had been one fluid shot. Even with the glitched effects added in, it was clear that whoever made the video had done so in one take - or at least, they were damned good at making it seem that way.

"Seán... that's crazy. You're telling me that none of this was saved footage? That this was original dialogue?"

Was that what he was implying? There was no other explanation. The video had been scripted, but none of it by him.

Mark let out a long breath, eyes betraying how much of a problem he knew this was, "holy shit... Alright, well..." he was at a strange loss of words now, no doubt trying to come up with a way to fix this. "We'll go through the process to secure your account. Make sure no one can get access and then report it."

Right. Securing the account was the most logical course of action.

"You should also probably take down the video and put out a statement."

Seán nodded. The video had been up for some time now. There were already over half a million views. He didn't even want to look at the comments. He had to put something out there to let people know.

They started with securing his account. Changing passwords and running diagnostics on his machine to make sure it was clear of malware. Once that was done and nothing suspicious came back, they went through the process of reporting the hack to YouTube as well as Google. Getting an immediate email from both with a ticket number and a generic 'it could take up to 48 hours to investigate' message attached.

But at least Seán felt like he'd taken the necessary steps to be safe again. He hated how... vulnerable this all made him feel. Someone had literally messed with his livelihood. It shook him more than he ever would like to admit.

Last, but not least was the content itself. Seán stared at it for a long moment before going into its options and pressing the "delete forever" button. Another prompt popped up asking if he was sure he wanted to delete the video - it was a permanent action, after all.

Yeah, he was definitely sure.

He clicked the 'yes' and breathed a small sigh.

Now all that was left was getting his own image back in front of the fans.

He'd planned on getting ready before recording but decided this was too important.

Quickly, Seán opened up the video options and chose the live stream, allowing for his camera to boot up and for a site-wide alert to his fans to go out letting them know he was 'live'.

It didn't take long for them to start pouring in.

Most of them saying hi over chat, a lot of them noticing Mark off to the side and freaking out about them being together. There were so many chats it was hard to keep up with them all.

"Hey guys...," He waved half-heartedly at the audience, biding his time until he knew enough people had made it into the stream.

"This wasn't what I planned on doing today. I still hope to do what we planned on doing," He rambled, suddenly feeling embarrassed for the announcement he had to make.

It was a strange feeling - to be the victim, but embarrassed to have to admit it. It wasn't very often that a major channel like his got hacked. And definitely not to this degree.

With that and a satisfactory number of viewers, he took a deep breath and addressed them all directly. "Look, I'm going to cut straight to the chase. By now, I'm sure most of the world has seen the latest video posted to my channel. I'm here to tell you guys that it wasn't me." He paused, glancing over to the chat to watch it catch up.

"I was hacked. And someone posted that video to my channel without my knowledge or permission. I know it looks like me. It's one hell of a convincing act. But I had nothing to do with that video." Again, he paused, watching the chat pour out with rage and sympathy for his plight. there were a number of individuals who seemed skeptical - like Mark, thinking this was all part of some elaborate skit.

If _only_ he were that creative.

"So, it's been deleted and because of all of this, my account and channel are under review as we try to figure out how this even happened. Hopefully, this won't keep me from posting any of the fun content Mark and I had planned for the next couple of days." His voice died, despite his mouth open and ready to continue.

There was so much he wanted to say. So much anger and fear he wanted to share with the community. So much he wanted to tell (or yell at, given his growing irritation) the person who'd done this. But he couldn't find the words. For a couple of hours, someone had stolen his identity - stolen his channel.

"That's really all I came here to say," he mumbled with a shrug, glancing back at the comments in the thread. Reading quite a few of them saying things about how this meant he was never going to bring the characters back. That, someone, had ruined it for everyone else.

And he had to admit, he agreed.

At the very least, it was going to be quite a bit of time before he could readdress the egos without feeling like someone might try to take them too far again.

"Well, guys, thanks for tuning in. And we'll," he leaned over so Mark could lean further into the frame to wave at the viewers, "hopefully be seeing you all again soon."

With that, he ended the stream.


End file.
